Puzzles
by aleir29
Summary: Regulus Black knew he should have gotten used to it a long time ago. But for some reason, he hadn't. Short nonlinear oneshots featuring Regulus as his family falls apart.


Puzzles-Regulus Black

Summer 1972  
Dear Regulus,

I think it's wonderful that you're interested in Transfiguration. I bet you'll get good grades when you come. Personally, it's not my best subject, but that might simply be because I'm too busy trying to find a good spot to practice. I probably just haven't searched enough; I hear fifth and sixth years talking all the time about their practices. Then again, they're usually Hufflepuffs or Ravenclaws, and I don't want to practice in the same places as them. The stupidity might rub off.

On a completely unrelated note, I have something important to tell you. Andromeda is dating a Hufflepuff, and there are rumors that they're now engaged. I can't believe it, can you? I don't believe she's told Mum and Dad, though, but if they really are engaged, I suppose she'll have to sometime. Some people are saying that he's muggleborn, too, but I think that's just taking it too far. I know Andromeda, and while she might be crazy enough for a Hufflepuff, I'm sure she wouldn't do that.

I'm afraid I'm going to have to cut this letter short. Honestly, that was the only thing I had to tell you, because I didn't think your parents would. They don't think you're mature enough, but I know you are, especially for your age. Besides, you deserve to know why if they disown her for it.

Goodbye for now. Try not to let Sirius get on your nerves, and I'll see you in a month.

Until then,  
Narcissa

Winter 1974  
A thirteen-year-old Regulus sat on his bed, reading the Daily Prophet. He could hear Narcissa and her fiancé Lucius giggling in the hall, and knew that he probably shouldn't leave the room even if he wanted to. Lucius could be rather unpleasant when he was interrupted, and Narcissa wouldn't talk to him for three days. So he tried his best to ignore their whispers, the gentle clink of dishes as Kreacher cleaned downstairs, and the tirade of voices steadily growing louder in the sitting room. The family was speaking of the Dark Lord, he knew.

Nobody could take their minds off him; it seemed, with the exception of the couple in the hall. (He somewhat envied them for being so carefree.) Even Regulus was currently scouring the paper for articles on him. To get an enriched point of view, he told himself, and kept flipping the pages. He spotted two wanted ads, side by side, for a stern-looking Death Eater and a stout thief. With four snips of his scissors and a muttered spell, the Death Eater was on his wall, next to a small column on mysterious disappearances. Before he turned the page again, he hesitated, and decided that it wouldn't hurt to keep the thief in mind. He stuck it on the wall next to the Death Eater, and paused to listen to the debate downstairs. It sounded like his cousin Bellatrix was dominating, making points that Regulus was sure the family would appreciate.

He turned his attention back to the Daily Prophet, and began to skim the last page. Seeing nothing more of his interest, he set it aside and turned to review his collection. Loud stomps interrupted his concentration and Lucius swore from the hall outside his door. Sirius' voice answered him, telling them (very rudely) that if they didn't want to be interrupted, they shouldn't do that. Regulus sighed, and not wanting to hear the fight, attempted to cast Silencio at the door. Disappointed that it hadn't worked, he fell back onto his bed, covered his face with his pillow and squeezed his eyes shut.

Spring 1976  
"Look what Professor Wilson gave me!"

"Honestly Clara, I don't see what the big deal is. It's just a silly muggle game. I can't even see how it would be fun."

"The fun is in trying to put it together. Wilson said to look at the picture and try to make the puzzle match. He said it's easier to start at the edges and work your way in," Clara said, shrugging off her friend's negative reaction.

A few tables away in the library, Regulus couldn't help but eavesdrop on their conversation. He tried to focus on his Transfiguration theory essay, but the two Ravenclaws were being loud, and it was nearly impossible to ignore them, he thought with a bitter scowl. He listened as they communicated, glanced over as they constructed the frame of the puzzle. He smirked when the librarian marched over, wagging her finger at the noise and chased them out of the library, one casting a quick Wingardium Leviosa on their progress to carry it out.

However, when they stumbled out the door, still being scolded by the librarian, the one holding the charm on the puzzle lost her concentration for a split second, and the picture tumbled to the ground, shattering on impact with the stone. Regulus nearly laughed, but when he saw the look on Clara's face, his amusement promptly disappeared. Frowning, he gathered his books and strode out of the library, quickly past the girls, who were crouching on the ground, gathering the pieces. He resisted the urge to look back.

Trying to put it all together could lose its fun rather quickly, he thought.

Summer 1975  
Today was the day.

His stomach churned in anticipation as he took step after step up the elegant staircase, his mind on one thing.

Sirius.

He could not pinpoint exactly why he was doing this. In actuality it was probably unwise to continue without a proper reason. His Gryffindor brother could hardly stand him as is. However, he had a gut feeling that he had to do it right now.

He was at the top of the banister, Sirius' bedroom door to his right. He took two steps forward, placed his hand on the doorknob, and inhaled.

Sirius, I'm sorry.

The door swung open, Regulus' hand outstretched.

The fireplace glowed green, fading to orange as Regulus stared. The drawn curtains cast a grey shadow over the rest of the room. There was nobody inside.

He turned away, eyes watering. He couldn't bear to read the white parchment lying on the hard wood floor. It was too late.

Fall 1975  
As Regulus trudged through the halls back to the Slytherin common room, four older boys whisked past him. His head snapped back to follow them, and he dropped his books, sprinting after them.

It'd been so long since he'd seen that mischievous grin adorn his brother's face, and he intended to do now what he had been unable to the past summer break. He rounded a corner just in time to see one of Sirius' friends, a tall dark-haired one with spectacles, pull aside a painting to reveal a secret passageway, the other three climbing through as he inspected an old piece of parchment. The painting swung back into place after the last person, and Regulus sped forward, repeating the bespectacled boy's action.

The passageway was pitch dark, and Regulus felt for the wall as he struggled to see bodies belonging to the footsteps he could hear running away from him. He broke into a clumsy jog, trying to catch up. He could see light at the other end as Sirius' gang exited the other end, and he accelerated into a sprint.

"Sirius!" he called in desperation. He saw the last boy stop, and turn back. He pushed himself, and caught up, recognizing the boy who stopped as Remus. Remus was stunned, staring into his face like he had just walked through the wall.

Regulus poked his head out of the opening, vaguely registering his pounding heart and unattractive panting. The three other boys were staring at him with an expression similar to Remus', but as he stood there, he could see Sirius' morph into one of disgust.

"What are you doing here?" he spat, glaring into Regulus' face. "You going to rat us out to your little Slytherin friends?"

Regulus was horrified. "Of course not! I just wanted..." he trailed off, not exactly sure how he wanted to word it. Sirius raised an eyebrow. "I'm sorry."

Sirius sniffed. "So that's what this is about? You and the rest of your family will fake remorse, to get me to come back-"

"What? No..."

"And then you all will blackmail me into joining your stupid little cult, where I'll be treated like crap anyways because I ran away. Do you seriously expect me to forgive you guys in the first place?"

Regulus could feel tears prickling at his eyes. "No, I really just wanted to apologize." His voice cracked as he spoke, and he chided himself internally for sounding weak.

Sirius laughed coldly as his friends whispered to each other behind him. "And what do you expect to get out of that, if not recruiting me? I know how you Slytherins are; you never do anything that you don't benefit from in some way. I know you don't mean it." He turned, beckoning to Remus, who was still holding the passageway. "Let's just go. We're wasting time."

Remus looked at Regulus with sad eyes, and let go of the door slowly. Once they were joined by Remus, they were off and running, leaving Regulus lost and remorseful.

Fall 1979  
Regulus sat in silence, trying to look attentive when what he was really focusing on was the varying looks from different Death Eaters. He was sitting at the most coveted spot at the table, directly to the right of the Dark Lord, and it was attracting quite a bit of attention, considering he only just finished school.

There were the not-so-subtle looks of pride from his parents, glares from the less intelligent Death Eaters, and analytical stares from the more competent ones. Then there were those who were trying their best to ignore him, and he had to say that he preferred their reaction. What he didn't prefer was the fact that the only person he respected at that table was among them. However, Severus Snape had closed himself off after a devastating heartbreak a few years back, so he supposed that he shouldn't be disappointed.

"But... Regulus," the Dark Lord's voice boomed next to him. "I require a servant. Would you so happen to have one to lend me?" He smiled so cruelly that it could barely be called a smile anymore. Regulus looked up in surprise, but nodded, afraid of what would happen if he didn't.

"Yes, my Lord. Would you like me to summon it now?"

"Yes. As for the rest of you," He flicked his wrist in their direction. "Leave." The Death Eaters filed out of the room.

Regulus hesitated before speaking. "Kreacher," he called. Come quick. Instantly, the house elf appeared at his side, staying respectfully quiet. "The Dark Lord is in need of an elf."

Kreacher nodded shakily. The Dark Lord eyed the elf disapprovingly, but appeared to accept him, addressing Regulus once more in his authoritative rumble. "You are dismissed."

He fought the urge to look back as he closed the ornate doors behind him.

Fall 1975  
Regulus took a deep breath before striding forward, to the sandy-haired boy at the library table. Remus glanced up at him for half a second before returning to his work. Regulus sat down.

"That was foolish, what you did yesterday." Remus didn't look up again.

Regulus turned away, frowning. "I honestly just wanted him to know."

"You of all people should know how unforgiving he is. Especially in this case." Remus paused, as if unsure of what he was about to say. "He was antagonized by your family for his entire life, and he finally got out. He probably was planning to have nothing to do with you guys ever again."

There was a long silence in which neither said anything, occupied only by the sound of Remus' quill against parchment.

"You're very understanding, Remus. Sirius is lucky to have such good friends."

Fall 1979  
"Kreacher!"

Instantly, the house elf appeared, standing a respectful two meters away from him. Regulus straightened in his chair and scooped up the silver locket on the desk in front of him. He held it out.

"Does this look correct?"

Kreacher took two steps forward and inspected the jewelry. He hesitantly spoke. "Master's copy is perfect in every way, except for that the green of the emerald is slightly off. It should be darker." He backed up again, chancing a look into Regulus' face. Realizing what he had said, he frantically corrected himself. "Of course, it is Kreacher's fault! Kreacher should have described the color more accurately. Master has outdone himself in following Kreacher's unworthy instructions."

Regulus was taken aback. He spoke again. "Kreacher, you did great. It's not your fault." He smiled at the elf, and hunched over the locket once more. He stared intently at the embedded stone and nodded. Kreacher rambled next to him.

"Master is too kind. He is the most generous master for defending his humble servant's actions. Kreacher-"

"Kreacher!" Regulus interrupted. "Please be quiet." The elf nodded sheepishly.

He picked up his wand again, waving it at the locket and muttering under his breath. The emerald shade changed slightly to match Kreacher's statement, and he held it out again.

"How about now?" Regulus asked. Kreacher gulped.

"It is perfect."

Regulus smiled wanly, and gazed at it for a second before putting it down again. He ripped a piece off of some parchment lying next to him, and scribbled something onto it. He folded up the note and opened up the locket, placing it inside, and stood.

"Take me where he took you."

"Now, Master?" Kreacher looked surprised, and a little sad. Regulus stared at him for a moment.

"Yes, now. Also, I'd like for you to call me Regulus. Just for the rest of today."

Kreacher shuffled awkwardly. "Yes," he paused, unsure of himself. "Regulus." He took a few steps forward, taking hold of Regulus' arm, and with a pop, they were gone, only one fully aware of what would happen by the end of the day.

Spring 1980  
Next Black family reunion, Sirius wasn't the only one missing.


End file.
